


A Night Out

by brinnanza



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:23:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinnanza/pseuds/brinnanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Richenbach. Mycroft notices Molly needs a night out and puts Anthea up to the task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night Out

**Author's Note:**

> American/Unbeta'd/etc
> 
> Prompt: Anthea bones with Molly. Bonus if it involves shots.

Molly is just finishing up an autopsy when she hears the shuffle-clack of John entering the morgue. She winces reflexively but tries to keep calm. John is just lonely, she tells herself, he needs a friend. Molly would prefer it if he would find a friend who didn't have to constantly lie to him about a death that didn't occur, but Molly's guilt is usually enough to prevent her from running away immediately.

She turns around slowly, pinching the wrist of one glove to remove it and meets John's eyes. And right away, Molly knows this isn't going to be like the other conversations she's had with John. This isn't small talk or idle chatter or fond reminiscences. This will be deeper, harder, more personal. And after the day Molly's had, she's not sure she can handle it right now.

John just looks haunted, and Molly doesn't think she'll be able to keep Sherlock's secret this time. Not with John looking so on the edge, like a whisper will push him over.

“Hi Molly,” John says dully.

“Hi John,” she says cautiously, and she finishes removing her gloves. She bins them and nervously straightens up some papers on the table.

“Are you busy tonight?” John asks and the honest part of Molly's brain demands she say no, what does he need, of course she'll be there for him.

But the selfish part of her brain is the one that gets to speak and she lies: “Yeah, I'm sorry... Look, why don't you call Lestrade? I'm sure he'll be up for something.” 

John's expression doesn't change, and that hurts Molly more than if his face had fallen. “Yeah,” he says. “I'll call Lestrade.” He shuffles out of the morgue. Molly has to force down the guilt that's crawling up her throat. 

When her shift is over and she steps out into the cool fall air, there is a familiar nondescript car waiting and Molly breathes a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for Mycroft, who always seems to know when she needs to escape from the inside of her head for a little while. She walks up to the car and the back window rolls down, revealing a dark haired woman with a Blackberry.

Molly gets into the car. “Hi... uh...?” She's not sure what Mycroft's PA is going by this week. 

“It's Anthea again this week,” she replies with a smile. And then, to Molly's immense surprise, she sets the phone down on her lap and looks up at Molly.

She's not really used to Anthea's attention for more than a second, so Molly fumbles around for some words that don't sound idiotic. “You might want to tell Mycroft to keep a closer eye on John tonight,” she says after a moment. “He came to see me.”

Anthea nods. “Yes, Mycroft is aware of the situation.” Mycroft seems to know everything that happens to John or Molly and she tries not to think about some of the things he may have caught her doing.

“So... what's up?” Molly asks awkwardly, wringing her hands. “I mean, I haven't heard from Sherlock in a couple of weeks. Does Mycroft know where he is?”

Anthea's phone beeps, and her eyes flick down to it, but she doesn't pick it up. “Mycroft is well aware of Sherlock's current location. He thought you might need a bit of a night out.” She smiles warmly at Molly.

“Oh, well that's... nice. That's lovely! What did he have in mind?” When Mycroft sends for Molly it's normally to ask her when she's heard from Sherlock last, how he seemed to be doing, and occasionally to request body parts, which Molly assumes is for Sherlock. She hates to think both Holmes brothers have penchants for experimenting on body parts.

“I thought we'd go for a drink,” says Anthea.

“We?” questions Molly. Not that she dislikes the PA, she just hasn't spent a lot of time with her. She's usually pretty involved with her phone when Mycroft sends for her.

“You and me. Mycroft thought I could use a night out too.”

“Oh. Okay,” says Molly, and she's not sure what else to say.

The car stops in front of a bar, a classy place that Molly's not entirely sure she can afford. But as they're walking in, Anthea says, “Drinks are on Mycroft.”

Molly's not usually a drinker, but John's broken expression is burned onto her eyelids and onto the back of her brain. Maybe enough alcohol can erase it.

Anthea selects a booth, a cozy little corner with dim lighting. Molly follows her in, having absolutely no idea what to say to the woman who works for someone Sherlock frequently refers to as the British Government. 

Fortunately a server joins them almost immediately. Anthea orders a gin martini, dry, and Molly blushes furiously as she orders a Cosmo. It's what she usually orders and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it—she _likes _cranberry juice—but she has the strangest feeling of wanting to impress Anthea.__

__When the server returns with their drinks, Molly gulps most of hers down immediately. Just because she didn't often drink didn't mean she wasn't aware of its social lubrication properties._ _

__~*~_ _

__They make idle small talk about the weather, about work (Anthea can't really talk about hers), about Sherlock's globe trotting and Molly makes her way through a second Cosmo while Anthea starts a third martini._ _

__“I have an idea!” Anthea announces suddenly. She drains her third martini and Molly's noticed she's much less distant, much easier to talk to. Also, she hasn't looked at her phone in an hour. “Shots!”_ _

__“Ooh, yes,” Molly agrees with a giggle. “Tequila! I love tequila.”_ _

__Anthea slides around the booth, moving closer to Molly. and says, “So it's settled!” She smacks a hand down on the table. “Barkeep! We require tequila!”_ _

__The bar's not especially loud but it's not especially quiet either, so Molly's a little surprised when a tray of lime wedges and tequila shots rimmed with salt shows up at their table attached to the same server who brought the other drinks._ _

__“Wow, you're really on the ball!” says Molly as she plucks a shot from the tray._ _

__The server sets the tray down and Anthea says, “Mycroft paid her. Well, the bar. For her.” Anthea frowns a bit, the words not coming out as she intended. “Anyway, she's on Mycroft's payroll, so we probably don't want to say anything bad about him._ _

__“So no hilarious stories of humiliation?” Molly asks hopefully. After all, the server's gone back to the bar, leaving their little corner unattended._ _

__“I'm pretty sure he has my phone bugged,” says Anthea seriously. Then she picks up a shot of her own. “Anyway, cheers!” She clinks her glass against Molly's and they both down their drinks in one go._ _

__Molly snatches a lime to suck on to clear the bitter aftertaste of the tequila. Anthea does not, but she does stick out her tongue and lick a bit of salt from the rim of the glass. Molly finds herself staring at the little flick of Anthea's tongue._ _

__Anthea sets the shot glass down on the table and the sound of glass colliding with polished wood snaps Molly out of her reverie. She looks up, meeting Anthea's eyes. The corner of Anthea's mouth quirks up in a sly smile and pokes her tongue to lick her lips slowly._ _

__Molly is pretty sure she's not drunk enough for the heat coiling below her stomach. She crosses her legs tightly and reaches for another shot. Anthea stops her with a hand over hers and there must be something wrong because Anthea's skin on hers shouldn't make Molly's hand feel so hot._ _

__“Let that one kick in first,” Anthea chides. She doesn't remove her hand._ _

__Molly clears her throat. She's got enough alcohol in her to speak without feeling like a complete moron, so she asks Anthea something that's been on her mind. “So... What's with you and Mycroft? Cause he speaks pretty highly of you and you seem to spend a lot of time together.”_ _

__Anthea's thumb has started rubbing soft circles into the back of her hand. Molly swallows and Anthea says, “I'm just his PA. I should think that would be obvious.”_ _

__Molly makes a noncommittal noise and shrugs. The drinking is making her brain slow and kind of fuzzy. What her brain is telling her is happening cannot possibly be what is actually happening—there has to be a miscrossed wire somewhere._ _

__But Anthea picks up another shot and says, “That one's probably kicked in my now.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Molly finds herself saying, taking the glass. She tips her head back and downs the shot. When she looks back at Anthea, she has a lime wedge perched between her glossy lips. There's a mischievous glint in her eyes and she leans toward Molly._ _

__Everything is sort of blurry around the edges and something seems to be buzzing in her ears as Molly leans in and takes the lime with her lips, brushing them softly against Anthea's. She sucks the juice from the lime wedge then sets it on the table, unable to take her eyes off of Anthea's._ _

__Molly thinks she might be drunk enough now._ _

__~*~_ _

__Molly leans forward slightly and when Anthea matches her, Molly bridges the gap between them. Their lips meet, and it's soft, almost chaste, like an experiment. And for Molly it is—she doesn't know about Anthea but she's always been interested in men—even lying, deceitful, pretending-to-be-gay men. And Anthea is very clearly not a man._ _

__No, Anthea is soft skin and curves and gentle lips. Anthea is kissing _her_ ; Anthea started this evening in the first place. And if Molly's relationships with men have only ever ended is disaster, for the sake of law and order, perhaps she should pursue a different line of relationships._ _

__Anthea brings her hand to Molly's face and cups her cheek. She runs her tongue along the seam of Molly's lips and she can't help but open to the kiss. And then it stops being gentle and soft and starts being hot and demanding with bruised lips and teeth clinking against teeth. Anthea nips at Molly's lower lip and Molly can't help but let out a quiet moan._ _

__Molly's pretty sure she's never been kissed like this. She's had awkward kisses at the end of awkward dates and she's had to pretend some kisses were more exciting than they were. She's had almost-kisses and not-kisses and sloppy kisses, but _this_. If kissing can be like this, Molly's pretty sure she's never kissed anyone before._ _

__Molly tangles her hand in Anthea's hair and brings them closer, their bodies flush against each other. Anthea breaks from her mouth to trail kisses along her collarbone. She sucks lightly on the skin where her shoulder meets her neck and Molly gasps. She's felt desire before of course, but never like this. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's the novelty of someone she's not in a relationship with, someone female, someone who wants her without a hidden agenda, but whatever the reason, Molly feels more than just aroused, more than just hot. She's on fire, burning, burning white hot everywhere._ _

__Anthea's hand skims down Molly's side and rests on her hip. The other hand slides down and Anthea brushes a thumb against Molly's breast. Molly realizes she should be reciprocating in some way, so she ducks Anthea's mouth on her neck to press kisses along Anthea's collarbone. Molly tugs on her hair lightly and Anthea moans breathily. Molly tugs again and Anthea grabs Molly's hand and tugs it toward herself. She sets it on her thigh and Molly slides it up, her thumb rubbing gentle circles against Anthea's skin just below the hem of her skirt._ _

__Anthea's hips hitch toward her and Molly's thumb slides under the skirt hem. Anthea slips her fingers under the bottom of Molly's blouse, reaches around and slides her hand up Molly's back. Molly presses her legs together tightly but she needs something, anything, some pressure right _there_ or she thinks she might lose her mind. Anthea's hand slides around to her stomach then moves up to cup Molly's breast. “Oh!” Molly breathes. Anthea's thumb sweeps over her nipple and Molly shivers._ _

__Anthea takes hold of Molly's hand again, moves it further up her skirt. “Touch me,” she moans in Molly's ear and Molly obliges. She slides her hand forward timidly, brushing one finger against Anthea's folds through her panties. Anthea moans again and jerks forward. Molly strokes her there for a moment, and then Anthea's hand has snuck under her bra and is rolling Molly's nipples in such a way that sends a jolt of white hot desire straight between her legs._ _

__Anthea turns so she's properly facing Molly, one leg on up on the bench, the skirt rucked up past her knees. She gets a finger in the belt loop of Molly's trousers and tugs her closely. Then, with the other hand still rubbing and twisting and rolling, she deftly undoes the button and zip of Molly's trousers._ _

__Anthea slips her hand in, under her panties and touches one soft finger to Molly's clit. Molly can't help but cry out, not even caring that she's in public and people could hear her or—god forbid—see her. All Molly can think is “yes” and “more” and “so good.” She pushes Anthea's panties to one side and slips a finger inside of her. Anthea moans and rocks against her finger, then slips her own finger in Molly. She moves her thumb against Molly's clit and she strokes in and out with one, then two, then three fingers._ _

__Molly feels the heat in her growing, spreading, and she rocks against Anthea's hand. Anthea's thumb brushes across Molly's clit and Molly comes with a cry, vision whiting out, cresting on a wave of such exquisite pleasure. She's dimly aware of Anthea's panting moans, her shifting hips, so Molly turns her hand around, slides another finger alongside the first and angles her fingers up, searching for that spot._ _

__She finds it. Anthea's mouth falls open and gives a soft cry, her eyes closed and her head tilted back. And she looks _beautiful_._ _

__Molly withdraws her fingers, wipes them on her trousers, and fastens the button and zip. Anthea smoothes down her skirt then turns her face to Molly's with a serene smile on her lips._ _

__Molly blushes and then leans forward to place a gentle kiss on Anthea's smile. Molly feels a giggle rise up in her throat, a byproduct of a rush of endorphins like nothing she's ever felt. Anthea rests her forehead against Molly's for a moment then says, “Your place or mine?”_ _


End file.
